


Musings About An Underrated Pairing

by Anonymous



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Dick Grayson is Nightwing, F/M, Female Dick Grayson, Kaldur'ahm is Aquaman, Since this is a collection of musings many tags may apply, So many tags that it could very well end up taking up half a page, So please check the notes at the beginning of each chapter for individual tags okay? Thank you
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:14:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29338881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: As the title says. One-shots, plot bunnies and musings about my favorite Young Justice pairing Nightwing/Aqualad, respectively Nightwing/Aquaman. I don't know why I decided on female!Dick, but let's see how Grace Grayson will hold her own.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Kaldur'ahm, nightwing/aquaman
Comments: 9
Kudos: 39
Collections: Anonymous





	1. The One with the Gills - Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #5 months into their relationship #insecurity

Lowering his head further into the pillow, Kaldur’ahm attempted to relax into the soft cotton beneath his cheek. The body behind his own, plastered to the naked skin of his back like an octopus, had stilled a little while ago, indicating sleep that seemed to elude him once again.

 _It is nothing_ , he thought to himself, as his uncovered eye roamed over the room. Their room. Despite the fact that he had never officially moved in. Grace had simply made room for him and he had not dared to question her generosity.

The light pollution of the city sept in through the blinders, dimly illuminating the space to a point where he didn’t necessarily need to adjust his eyes.  
Their comms laid within reach of the bed, right beside the book he had been reading earlier this evening. _Who Fears Death_ was a superb piece of entertainment. Surface literature differed greatly from its Atlantean counterpart in terms of themes and target groups.  
A variety of books had somehow found their way onto the shelves adorning the wall opposite to the bed. Those shelves had not been there a few months prior. Yet as more books had appeared, more shelves had been installed to accommodate the growing collection. Some books had been taken from the library at the Hideout and would be returned once finished. Others just happened to be there. It was an amusement for him to check the shelves for new arrivals every time he returned from Atlantis. To see what treasures his love had found, what had caught her eye and why she had acquired them for... _them_.

He exhaled into the pillow. _It was nothing_. He was imagining things.

Pieces of sea glass she had collected from various beaches around the globe shone softly on the windowsill. The pendant Zatanna had used for his glamour charm had been made from one of those pieces. A pale green stone, matching the color of his eyes, shaped into the glyph representing Atlantis and Aquaman. He had not asked Zatanna to perform the spell. Grace had.

“It’s the middle of summer, Kaldur, you’re not going to be wearing polo necks all day. I’m not having you torture yourself like that,” she had proclaimed, when he had asked as to why there had not been a single item of clothing in the wardrobe - the space of her wardrobe that she had cleared for him - which would have covered his gills.

“Here,” she had handed him the sea glass pendant attached to a simple black leather band, “I asked Zatanna for a glamour charm. The people who know what you actually look like will still see you as such, but everybody else won’t see the obvious giveaways like gills, webbing, hair, eyes and stuff.”

He had merely raised an eyebrow at her, while feeling the cool piece of glass in the palm of his hand.

“Hey, don’t give me that look,” she had laughed, “it’s not my fault that you regularly talk in front of the United Nations, that your speeches are broadcasted worldwide and that you’ve got a rather,” her voice had dropped a bit lower, “distinctive look that I very much appreciate.” She had never made him feel less about the differences in their appearance due to his heritage. She had never fetishized them either. That was simply not who she was.

 _Still_ , he sighed, his upper body heaving from the act. The arm curled around midsection tightened ever so lightly.

“Wh’s wron’?” Her breath tickled against the nape of his neck.

“It’s nothing," he gently took her hand and kissed her fingers, “go back to sleep.”

The room was quiet once more, yet Kaldur couldn’t feel her breathing evening out again. He could hear her thinking instead.

“Is it the same _nothing_ it was two weeks ago? Or the same as 5 days ago?"

He had been hoping to avoid this conversation. After all, it was nothing. Nothing worth bringing up anyways.

“Kaldur?” She gave a quick squeeze to his hand holding hers to gain his attention.

“It really is nothing,” _nothing to worry about_. He wetted his lips with the tip of his tongue, hoping that she would let it go, despite knowing better. Of course, she had noticed. She was able to read him like no other.

“Is it about Atlantis? ‘Cause then I won’t ask anymore.”

Kaldur’ahm wants to thank the gods for the sharp mind this woman had been blessed with. For her kindness to offer him this exit strategy. She had always been the detective of the group, nosy as a teen, more understanding and respecting of boundaries as she had matured.

Atlantis was a serious topic of conversation. While relations between Atlantis and the surface were slowly proceeding, they were still at the very beginning of reintegrating the kingdoms of the ocean into the surface world. Laws about interactions with the surface were still unrelenting. The act of sharing details about state affairs with surface dwellers was regarded as high treason and punishable by death. Of course, there were exceptions for him regarding his involvement with the League and the Team, but outside of missions? He was to remain loyal.

And because Grace respected his loyalty, she would accept a simple _yes_ and immediately drop the conversation, even going so far as to deny it ever happened. She would lie for him. But he found himself unable to lie to her.

“No,” he admitted honestly, already coming to terms that, perhaps, now would have to be the time to discuss the very thing that had kept him up these past couple of nights. “It’s not that.”

“What is it then?” There was no impatience in her voice, only a notion of worry as he allowed her to pull him onto his back. She laid her head close to his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss against his skin. Her dark hair fell in waves around her face and he could have lost himself into her ocean blue eyes.

“I,” he began, yet he didn’t know how to broach the subject of his own ponderings.

Grace just looked at him patiently, as though trying to discern his thoughts in order to help him proceed. He wanted to fill the silence in the room, but found himself struggling to continue.

“Is it about Themyscira?” She studied his face closely for any possible hints, her pupils widening to make more use of the dim light.

“No, it’s not.” He had forced himself to let go of that particular topic.

He knew that Diana had not offered her the opportunity to mentor young amazons out of malice. It had been a prestigious position, one Grace would have excelled at. While they had no longer been in the early stages of their relationship and she had obviously relinquished any doubts about their compatibility, his mind had wandered. Wandered into places from where she had to guide him back.

“Is it about the League, then?”

He wanted to kiss her for her ingenuity. Where he struggled, she would immediately come to his aid, readily offering solutions. She completed him in so many ways.

“It is neither about the League nor the Team.”

It might have been, though. Black Lightning had, once again, extended an invitation to Miss Martian, Superboy, Tigress and Nightwing, yet none of them had accepted, still preferring to stay with the Team. That in itself wasn’t new. What had been new was Black Lightning asking him in private whether or not Nightwing’s refusal had been because of their relationship. It had caused some inner turmoil for Kaldur’ahm. Was he not acting professional enough? Why would their leader question their motives in such a manner? Would it be more beneficial for the League and the Team if he and Nightwing were to swap positions? Evidently, Grace had pried the information from him via _dubious_ means. Handcuffs had been banned from their bed afterwards...for now, at least.

“So, it’s nothing work related?” Grace leant closer, tracing the outer line of his markings with the tips of her fingers.

“Correct,” he answered, disregarding the soft hum of energy her touch caused. From the very first time they had made love, she had made it her personal goal to map nearly every single square inch of his body. Nearly.

“It’s personal, then?” The touch on his shoulder didn’t linger to dive into something more serious. It remained soft like a feather brushing his skin. He knew that she wanted answers and distracting him too much wouldn’t result in any.

“Yes.” He sighed. It was personal. It only concerned him. It was nothing and he shouldn’t...

“About your family?” There was a light rush in her pacing. Family was an important subject to both of them. Was he worried about his family, so was she and he was grateful beyond words.

“No.”

“About us?” Curiosity laced her question.

They never really talked about their relationship. It simply was and it was good for what it was. Great even. They understood each other on a level that was the result of over a decade of knowing each other, working with each other, seeing each other through highs and lows. He had no interest in causing another low.

“No, it’s…...it’s me,” Kaldur tried to turn away, back onto his right side, but she halted his motion by holding onto his left shoulder.

“Tell me,” she had always known when to relent and when to pursue. Him demanding to let go of the topic would only lead to an argument now.

“I...we….,” he attempted to find the words eluding him at this very moment.

How could he phrase his...concerns? Ponderings? Accusations? He didn’t want to ruin it. Didn’t want to return to his quarters in the royal palace, didn’t want to ever endanger this life with her, but he couldn’t shake the question of, no matter how hard he tried. So, he decided on a direct approach.

“Why won’t you touch my gills?” Her eyebrows rose high, wrinkling her forehead and widening her eyes. She had clearly not expected that question. “You touch everything else on me, my webbing, my markings, but not my gills. Why?”

He feared her answer. What if she was repulsed by this particular part of his anatomy? What if she… her movement caused his train of thought to halt abruptly. She sat up. One leg crossed, the other propped up to support her chin. Grace bit her lower lip, obviously debating on how to reply. A sense of dread spread slowly through him with each second passing.

“Because,” she took a deep breath, not daring to look at him, “they’re terrifying me.”

And his heart dropped heavily into the pits of his stomach.

“I mean,” she gesticulated with her hands, “one wrong move and I could fucking kill you! You would think that, from an evolutionary point of view, they would be placed in such a way that one couldn’t simply rip them out of your neck, but no! They’re right there, on the sides of your damn neck! And they’re not small, either. Just one grip that’s too tight, one graze with a poorly filed nail and you might end up disabled or dead.” Her position was shifting now, as she moved into a kneel, then rocked back onto her heels. “What if I accidentally jabbed a finger in there?!” She shuddered visibly at the mere thought. “Do you have any idea of how many blood vessels run through them? You could bleed to death! Literally! Or I could injure you to the point where you might no longer be able to breathe water anymore, which means you could no longer see your family, or Atlantis. You’d have to quit being Aquaman and you LOVE being Aquaman and Atlantis needs you and the League and the Team and the…”

“ _Grace_ ,” his fearless leader voice, as she had once dubbed it, had an immediate effect on her. Years of working for and with him had trained her to respond accordingly, both physically and emotionally. She stilled her movement and shut her mouth with an audible _click_.

Kaldur’ahm’s heart was pounding with joy. He sat up to face her, holding her hands to stop her from gesticulating wildly and looking her straight into the eye. “You won’t hurt me and you definitely won’t kill me. Not you. Never you.”

There were many reactions he had imagined. Most of them he had feared and dreaded. This one he hadn’t anticipated. A part of him felt guilty for ever daring to assume that her affections were merely superficial.

“Exactly,” she nodded, some strands of hair falling into her face. “And because of that I….oh," her eyes widened in shock as realization hit her, “oh, nononono. _NO_.” She held tightly onto his hands. “Please tell me, I didn’t make you think that? No!” She kissed him, then, to calm his nerves all well as her own.

“You’re perfect," she told him after they broke apart, “everything about you is perfect.” He rested his forehead against hers, allowing himself, if only for a mere moment, to bask in her brazen declaration of love for him.

“I told you, it was nothing,” he said perhaps more to himself than to her.

“But it’s not nothing, Kaldur.” Grace sounded properly scandalized by his notion. “Not when you think I’m some sort of racist.”

“You are not racist.” How dared his love to think of herself in such a manner? Never had she spoken ill of someone due to their heritage. Never had she refused to aid those in needs due to their belief. Never had she withheld touch from...

“You thought I hated your gills!” Judging by her tone, Grace carried more anger for herself than for him, although that revelation didn’t make matters any easier.

“And I apologize. Yet it is still not the same as accusing you of racism.”

“Still feels like it, though.” Grace slumped back onto the mattress, the oversized t-shirt she used for sleeping riding up over her hip.

She insisted on a sleeping garment, since the younger team members did not always bother with knocking before entering. Kaldur’ahm was less lenient than her in that regard and expected for people to respect each other’s privacy, hence he slept in the nude, exactly as he would in Atlantis. He gently reached out, tracing the curve of her hip with his fingers, before lying down in front of her, his hand coming to rest at her waistline beneath the shirt. “I’m sorry that I made you feel that way.”

“I accept your apology,” Kaldur inched closer to her. “I wish we would have had this conversation sooner. There is no need for you to fear this part of me. I trust you with my life. I know that you would never cause any damage to me.”

“Really?” He was able to see her guilt-ridden face and kissed her forehead.

“Yes.”

“Okay, then,” she lowered her eyes to gaze at the set of gills currently not pushed up against the mattress, pursing her lips, “but I’ll clip my nails and file them down. And wash my hands. With a lot of soap. And I will definitely do some research before I take them to first base.”

He smiled at her, while leaning in to kiss her on the lips. “You do not need to clip your nails.”

“I don’t care, safety first when it comes to you,” she kissed back, the tip of her tongue brushing against his lips.

He could argue further with her, but instead he decided to reaffirm her via touch rather than talk, as he pushed her onto her back and rolled on top of her. Never once allowing their lips to part.

Kaldur’ahm wasn’t sure how Grace could worry about killing him by nicking a blood vessel along his throat, when she was the very reason a good portion of his blood was rushing south right now. All he knew was that, sometime in the future, his love would get acquainted with his gills, which would open up an entirely new chapter in their love-making.


	2. The One with the Gills - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #5 months into their relationship
> 
> The story of the gills shall continue.  
> Warning: contains mentions of bad childhood memories and murder/killing

Grace woke before her alarm went off. She had always been an early riser.

Back at Haly’s Circus, if she had gotten up early, she would have been allowed to help tending to the animals and what child would not have jumped at the option to feed tigers and elephants? Perhaps a few, but she had hardly ever been considered regular.

Her body was still comfortably aligned with Kaldur’s, allowing her to inhale his scent and to plant a soft kiss against the back of his neck. As their lives demanded so many sacrifices of them, she had learnt to appreciate any small luxury offered to her. What greater gift was there than to wake up next to the person she loved?

Even in his sleep, Kaldur’ahm was aiming to protect her, as he made sure to always place himself in between her and the door. In the beginning of their relationship, she had not paid his behavior too much attention, mainly because of the after-glow having fogged up her mind so much - their sex had been and still was amazing - but, eventually, she had noticed. At first, Grace had been confused. She had been certain that it wasn’t some kind of alpha male behavior, Kaldur was too respectful of women to ever think of them as weak and in need of protection. Then, to gather more information - not to mess with him, definitely not to mess with him - she had just happened to accidentally end up between him and the door. From the moment she had settled down in front of him, she had been able to feel the discomfort radiating off of him, yet he had been too much of a gentleman to mention anything. After a while, she had taken pity on him.

“Why are you this uncomfortable with me sleeping in between you and the door?” Grace had asked into the darkness of the room and to this day, she would swear to have heard him sigh in exasperation. Kaldur’ahm had always known, when he was being toyed with and he had never appreciated it much.

“It goes against my military training,” he had admitted quietly, “always sleep facing the door, your weapons within immediate reach.”

Grace had understood and had rolled over him, having stolen a kiss along the way, to lay behind him. She knew from her own experience, how hard it was to break teachings which had been ingrained into one’s brain. By having placed herself between him and the door, she had been placing herself between him and his weapons. Of course, he could have just laid his water-bearers behind himself, but then he would have had to turn around to grab them, wasting precious seconds in case of an actual attack. While Grace had also been trained to sleep facing both doors and windows, she had not been taught to rely on the proximity of weapons. She had been taught that she was the weapon. First by Cobb, then by Calvin and even by Ra’s.

Her first weeks at Wayne Manor had been stressful for everybody, as she had strategically explored the mansion, memorizing every possible way to enter and to exit. Alfred had not been too pleased with the young miss having rearranged the furniture in her room by herself, but after Damian had explained the situation to him, the butler had accepted the changes. In retrospect, Grace thought that Alfred might have been distraught, perhaps even insulted, by the fact that she had not felt safe at the manor. Luckily for her, Damian had allowed her to learn from his own experiences and the transition had become easier as a result. Now, though, as she eyed the three gill slits along the curve of Kaldur’s neck, she didn’t have anybody to learn from. Or rather, to un-learn from.

She had noticed how he had been withdrawn at times over the past couple of weeks, yet she had never wanted to think it had been because of that. When they had started their romantic relationship, they had already known each other for more than a decade. They had known each other first as acquaintances via their mentors, then as teammates, as friends, co-leaders and eventually as … co-conspirators, she guessed. Grace still hadn’t put a word on what lying and playing their respective teams had made them, but whatever it was, Kaldur and her had been in it together. They had been each other’s only confidants for years, such trust didn’t just happen by chance.

So, while there had been little left to discover on a personal level, getting to know each other on a physical level had been nothing but mind-blowing.

Grace had always been physical, a fact all of her teachers and mentors had utilized to their advantage. Cobb and Calvin had provided her with many human punching bags early in her training, both of them having preferred practical to theoretical knowledge. Of course, at times, she had been the punching bag, yet the electrum had mostly taken care of her injuries. With each punch, she had learnt to dodge, to parry and to serve right back. To this day, she didn’t have to think about what pressure points to hit in order to cripple her opponent.

Fortunately for her, a lot of the knowledge she had gained from human lovers had translated to Kaldur’s physique. All the main parts were there and essentially the same as with any other human male, albeit in a far superior version, if she dared to say so. It had taken her some time to get used to the fact that, for once, she wasn’t the pretty one in the relationship. She was willing to give up on her vanity though, as it meant that she got to be with the most beautiful man, she had ever met. Kaldur’ahm was perfect, there was no other way to describe him and it wasn’t just wanton desire and love doing the talking here. He was everything to her and to think that she made him feel insecure because of her behavior would not sit well with her. She had hoped that they would be able to put this discussion off for just a little bit longer, yet if she was honest with herself, she had seen it coming a long time ago. It was a catch-22 and she had no idea on how to explain it to him, now. He would not be so angry as to break up with her, however he would be… displeased, to say the least. 

The radio on her side of the bed came to life at a low volume and for a brief moment, she allowed herself to be distracted by the news segment. She carefully detached her limbs from Kaldur’s body, scooting back on the mattress to be able to reach the radio in order to turn it off. She felt movement behind her and as she turned back around, she was greeted with the site of her lover’s bare torso.

He gently took hold of her right hand and kissed her fingers.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Grace lowered herself back down to give him a proper good-morning-kiss on the lips.

“Good morning, my love,” Kaldur smiled against her lips as they parted.

Waking up early had been instilled into him by the Atlantean military, a most dreadful training that he would not miss, but now it allowed him to spend time with his love without anybody disturbing them. He had never imagined that there could be such simple joy in falling asleep and waking up to the same person every day.

Grace cupped his cheek and leant forward for another kiss. There was nothing better than lazy morning kisses to start the day. Also, by keeping their mouths busy, she was hoping to avoid Kaldur mentioning their late night conversation. Eventually, Kaldur’ahm moved his lips along her jawline, his breath hot against her skin, to briefly glance at the time displayed on her radio alarm.

“It’s Saturday,” she poked his throat with her nose, “the only one who’s gonna get up early is Bowhunter Boy. He might come in to complain about having to make his own coffee, though.”

“You spoil him,” Kaldur couldn’t help but smile. Grace might no longer lead the team, yet there was not a single doubt that she wasn’t the one holding the troop together. Den mother, Roy had called her and Kaldur found the term most fitting.

“Not really, I mean,” Grace yawned into her pillow, “I’m up anyways. Would be a pretty dick move to only make breakfast for myself. Besides, Will absolutely hates it, when I pack Roy nice things for lunch and snacks. Jim calls it a lunch-off and thinks it’s hilarious, that’s why he’s my favorite.”

Kaldur’ahm shook his head, although he smiled the entire time. He knew that it was pointless to chastise her for encouraging such childish behavior.

“Don’t laugh at me,” her smile matched his, “that’s just how siblings work. Mine are no different. It’s all in good fun, no matter how many death threats Will and Jay text my way.”

“Why would Jason threaten you with death?” Will he could understand, nonetheless Kaldur was fairly sure that her brother had no reason to hold a grudge against her over food preparation, even if it was Jason.

“Well, Will’s been telling him to tell me to stop packing food for Roy and, in the beginning, Jay was like 'whatever', but he’s pretty annoyed by now. Will is such a drama queen, I tell you, it’s all Ollie’s doing.”  
Any attempt to stop himself from snorting a futile, as the thought of a melodramatic Green Arrow crossed his mind. Dinah had always been the more level-headed one in that relationship and her partner had done nothing to disperse this idea.

“So, we have the morning to ourselves?” Kaldur’ahm gently embraced her body, closing the gap between them as he pulled her flush against him, feeling her curves and muscles flexing against his own.

“Mhm,” Grace felt a familiar heat circling through her veins, as she cocked her head to the side in order to aim for a kiss, her eyes however landed on her lover’s gill slits once more and she stilled.  
Sensing her hesitation, Kaldur looked up at her and didn’t take long to realize the cause of her distraction.

“We’ve talked about this,” he cupped the side of her face with his hand to make her look at him, “there’s no rush.”  
“I know, it’s just that,” Grace exhaled loudly. She owed him the truth or at least a better explanation than what she had given him last night. Even if he was going to be angry in that passive-aggressive way of his that she hated so much.

“Okay, real talk,” she wiggled backwards on the bed, because lying this close to his naked body was not helping right now. His pale eyes held questions she would hopefully be able to answer.

“You remember the part of my life where I was taken in by Calvin and then we ended up living with Ra’s, when he decided to quit the Court?” Kaldur nodded, not quite understanding where this conversation stemmed from, but nonetheless willing to indulge. 

“Good, keep that in mind, so,” oh, here came the part she dreaded the most, “when Damian allowed me to be part of the team, Calvin and Ra’s weren’t too pleased. Up to this day, Calvin doesn’t believe in teamwork because there’ll be no team in the maze, just me, and Ra’s, well, he wasn’t so much opposed to the team, as he was opposed to the idea of me being unsupervised with older boys. You know how he is with us girls.”

Kaldur’ahm nodded. It was the love for his daughters that had eventually caused Ra’s al Ghul to terminate his plans for world domination, even though his League of Assassins still operated in a morally gray zone. At times, he had been the League’s ally, at times, he had sided with their enemies. He had met the Demon’s Head a few times and had been impressed by his impeccable manners. It was well known within the ranks of the League and their enemies that Ra’s al Ghul also adored his grand-daughters, regardless of the fact that none of them were of his blood but merely adopted by Bruce and Talia. They were his princesses, although some said that Grace was his favorite because Damian favored her.

“So, obviously, I know how to take out a guy. Wally, Roy and even Connor, despite his Kryptonian DNA, didn’t worry him too much, but then, there was you,” Grace bit her lip, as she debated on how to continue without offending Kaldur too much. “Ra’s wanted to trust Batman, when he learnt about the new team, but he was concerned about you. You were three years older than me and Atlantean. Just some years prior to us founding the team, Atlantis had declared war on the surface and the display of power was unnerving, to say the least. He probably knew that Atlantis existed before, but since our worlds had never collided, why bother?” She shrugged. “He was bothered, however, when it came to me. He didn’t trust you, didn’t know what your intentions were, what abilities you might possess and, most importantly, how much of a threat you could be to me.”

Judging by the way Kaldur’s perfectly sculpted brows twitched in disbelief, Grace was able to tell that he understood perfectly well what Ra’s had thought him capable of doing to her.

“So, he got me a 'tutor', I guess is the best word to describe it,” she sighed.

“A tutor?” Kaldur’ahm repeated, still processing her words. They had known each other for so long, why had she never mentioned any of this?

“Yeah,” Grace brushed some hair out of her face, “they taught me Atlantean, in case you were trying to keep secrets from us and they taught me about,” she pointed at his neck, “the easiest ways to kill you.”

“And you have never told me any of this because?” A feeling of betrayal began to settle within him. How could she have kept such important information from him? How many Atlanteans were with the League of Assassins? At least one, for who could have taught her not only their language, but also their weaknesses?

“Because I knew you were a good guy and you were already doubting yourself so much and I,” she groaned in frustration, “I never thought that this would come to bite me in the ass! I liked learning the language, that was fun, the other stuff just came along with it. And now that we’re, well, here, I just remember, okay? I remember all the ways I was taught to theoretically hurt you. When I say that your gills terrify me, it’s not their fault but mine. I’m terrified, because I know how easily I could destroy them. I wasn’t kidding, when I said you might end up disabled. I can literally do that or worse.”

For a moment, Kaldur’ahm only focused on his breathing and then gathered his thoughts, prioritizing them by importance.

“Who taught you these things?” Talking about himself would only upset his love further, hence he settled on a topic concerning national security. Traitors were not dealt with lightly in Atlantis. They were not a merciful people.

“A woman,” Grace saw the image in front of her inner eye, “perhaps in her late forties? It’s hard to tell with Atlantean blood. Her hair had some gray strands in it. She could breathe both air and water. Her skin was dark with scars all over. She held no love for Atlantis.”

“Do you remember their name?” Perhaps the traitor was a half-blood like himself, only that they had been born on land. If they were a mongrel, then their Atlantean parent would be held accountable for their actions, as well.

“She was introduced to me as Rhea and she never bothered to reveal any other name to me,” she had smoked a lot, Grace thought, perhaps aging her prematurely, “she said that her mother had been raped. She wasn’t too fond of men herself.”

“Anything else?” If they had taught one person ten years ago, then how many other students could there be? Atlantean forces were aware of half-bloods on land, there had always been people breaking the law, Kaldur’ahm was living proof, but now that he knew of this particular traitor, he would also have to figure out how to report them without getting Grace sentenced for complicity.

“No,” she worried her lower lip with her teeth, scraping at the skin. So, he was angry after all. Shit. This was exactly what she had been trying to avoid. How had she been supposed to tell him without either lying or mentioning Rhea? If that was even her real name.

For a while, both of them just laid there in silence, each of them consumed by their own thoughts until Kaldur’ahm reached for her waist and gently pulled her close again.

“You said that you were afraid of touching me, because of the things she taught you.” His voice was calm, it held no hint of anger or accusation.

“Yeah.”

“How many bones does the human body have?”

“270 at birth, 206 when fully matured,” Grace answered without even thinking. Calvin had insisted she learnt everything there was about the human body. ‘If you know how it works, then you know, how to destroy it,’ he had said. ‘The maze won’t allow you to think, so learn while you can.’

“And how many ways have you been taught to break every single one of them?”

It was easy to forget that the woman he loved was in line to become the next Talon. That she had been trained from a young age to kill without hesitation. Looking back at the original Team, only Grace and Kaldur’ahm had actually been trained to kill. A shocking revelation to the rest of the Team, but strangely comforting to the both of them that they had not been alone.

He had seen her light fade before and had witnessed the destruction she was capable of. How Nightwing could become Nightmare. It had happened once. When M’gann had been ‘hurt’. They had ordered everybody to leave the building and to get their teammate to the med bay. None of them had ever spoken of it again and both Kaldur and Grace had blocked the memory from M’gann. Their mentors had not been pleased and benched them. Given the extent of M’gann’s injury however, they had eventually relented and reasoned that they, too, might have done the same.

Grace chuckled. “Too many to count.”

“Then there is no need,” he took her left hand with his right and guided it towards his neck, “for you to hold on to this fear.” Ever so carefully, he placed her hand onto his shoulder, close to his lowest gill slit. “You know at least a dozen ways to break my arm, yet you have never done it. And you will not injure my breathing apparatus, either. I trust you.”

“Are you sure?” She was looking warily at her hand, fingers curling inward.

“Yes.”

“Alright, then,” she wetted her lips with the tip of her tongue, still not looking anywhere but at her hand, “but you’ll tell me, if I’m hurting you or if I’m doing anything wrong, okay?”

“I swear,” Kaldur caressed the small of her back in a circular motion, hoping to calm her nerves.

It took her a moment to gather her courage, her breath hitching slightly, when he felt one of her fingertips slowly stroking along the length of his lowest slit. She did not dare to breach the actual slit, but close enough for a start. They had the morning to themselves, after all.


	3. Meeting in the Middle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Gestures, in love, are incomparably more attractive, effective and valuable than words._ \- François Rabelais

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: #18 months into their relationship #established relationship but still some insecurities #they were team mates #not so happy thoughts  
> Mentions nudity and hints at dubious uses of water-sorcery for her pleasure (I rated the whole story M just in case).
> 
> Thank you to everybody who has supported this story so far. I'm glad you like it and I seriously get excited with each new hit, kudos, comment, bookmark and subscription.

They were rather different people, from different backgrounds with different outlooks on life. Hell, they weren’t even of the same race. Yet, for some reason unbeknown to them, this combination of Homo sapiens and Homo atlantisiensis just worked. Some have said that they had recognized their compatibility years ago, while others still could not believe that these two in particular somehow formed a functioning romantic relationship.

For Grace and Kaldur’ahm, the hurdles others saw in their differences held barely any challenge.

Neither of them had been born into a luxurious life. While both of them had been raised by loving families, they had had to face prejudice for their heritage early on. Grace as a gypsy and a circus freak, Kaldur’ahm as a lowborn half-blood. Both of them had been forced to find their own strength in order to overcome outside hatred. Through their personal and professional experiences, they had learnt to serve, to sacrifice and to survive. They had been fortunate enough to face some of their life lessons together, forging them into the people they were today. So, when others questioned how they made things work out in their favor, they simply shrugged it off. Meeting in the middle seemed like such a small price to pay that they couldn’t imagine why they needed to explain it.

Due to their physiologies, they were comfortable at different temperatures. Kaldur’ahm had grown up at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, surrounded by dense waters which were so far below the surface that no sunlight would ever reach them. Whereas sunlight dictated the seasons of the surface world, the vast majority of people living in the depth of the ocean were not even familiar with the concept of daylight. He preferred the colder months, when the air was heavy with rain and humid throughout the day.

Grace had adapted easily by putting up a humidifier in their room and keeping the temperature at a moderate level. She didn’t give too much thought into wearing sweaters and warm leggings around their home to keep herself warm. It wasn’t much of a stretch, really, if it meant that Kaldur was not suffering from heat induced stress.

As a winter child, she took great joy in all things warm: the sun kissing her skin during a sizzling summer day, hot chocolate all throughout fall and winter, while snuggling up under thick blankets by the fire. Steaming hot baths were a treat she allowed herself to enjoy all year round.

Kaldur adjusted to her needs effortlessly. If he was called to duty in the middle of the night, he always made sure to check the heating and, if necessary, to rearrange the blankets around his love before leaving. He would shower at a slightly higher temperature, if it meant that he could share the shower with her. The henley shirts Grace had bought him might have been a bit too warm for his liking, yet he wore them anyways because the sight of his lover wearing them afterwards, engulfing herself in his scent, surrounding herself with _him_ , was positively intoxicating.

He had even found a way for them to enjoy hot baths together. While the water temperature was too high for him to properly relax, he appreciated the opportunities that arose with the occasion. Kaldur would usually lower himself onto the edge of the tub, preferably onto a pillow or towel for more comfort, and allow himself to simply be. The steam rising from the water filled their en suite bathroom with a welcoming humidity. The oils Grace tended to use scented the air with precious notes of vanilla, rose, ylang ylang or bergamote - whatever she was in the mood for. And then, of course, there was his love in all her naked glory, soaking in the water, allowing him to manipulate it around her in the most _pleasurable_ ways. Until the water had cooled off enough for his liking and he would join her that was.

It was one of the few times, when they actually bothered with locking their door, not wanting to be disturbed.

Cooperating on missions did not pose any challenges for them. Aquaman was with the League and Nightwing operated with the Team, hence there were points of contact, but their interactions were manageable. They agreed that, once they were on duty, their private life was left on hold. Some leaguers and team members found it strange that they never exchanged any affection while in uniform, as they were quite affectionate with each other while in their civvies. Grace and Kaldur preferred it that way. A clear divider between their personal and professional lives made things far easier for them, no matter how involved they were into each other’s lives. They made an efficient team, something Black Lightning would use to the League’s advantage, as their different approaches to mission objectives generally did not cause any clashes, but aided in solving problems faster.

Neither of them was afraid of stepping on the other’s toes. They knew how to dance with each other no matter the beat and without any hesitation. While Kaldur’ahm was known not to push, Grace was able to read him in a way that he didn’t have to. At the same time, Grace would often not spring into action unless pushed, their connection however allowed her to see, when she was needed.

Then, there was the issue of coparenting the younger team members. Neither of them had been too appreciative of M’gann having used _that_ particular label, but looking at it from a bystander’s point of view...they were the only adults - Roy did not count - living primarily at the Hideout. They might have preferred the term mentor, nonetheless, the kids they were guiding didn’t have the same luxury of a personal mentor as they themselves once had.

Arthur had mentored Kaldur’ahm and Garth exclusively, whereas Grace had benefited from an entire line-up of mentors: Calvin, Ra’s, Alfred, Talia and Bruce, Tim, Steph, Cass, Jason...her entire family, even though Damian had contributed the most to her education. He would always be _her_ Batman. He had helped her to become Robin and supported her in becoming Nightwing.

Some of the kids on the Team were sidekicks, more often than not however, especially with the corruption of the metagene, they were left without anyone to guide them. Some of them didn’t even have a place to call home anymore. Sure, the youngsters would also seek out Connor, M’gann, Artemis and even Roy, yet especially in the late hours of the evening, they would come knocking on their door and Grace and Kaldur would take the time to listen and to offer advice, when it was needed. They did not always agree on matters concerning discipline, but had decided to have Artemis settle those arguments, as she was team leader.

Evidently, they also had to compromise on things of everyday life like any other normal couple.

Grace was perfectly fine with any type of junk food. There existed paparazzi shots of her devouring a greasy burger with fries after a posh gala, still wearing her Erdem gown, bits of jewelry Talia had lent her, her hair coiffed, her makeup on fleek and Jason, in an expensive tailored suit, sitting right across from her. They had trended on social media for days and completely overshadowed Tim’s faux pas with that horrid z-list actress. _You’re welcome, Talia._

Her lover was the complete opposite. He was a food snob. To this day, he would roll his eyes at junk food, claiming that the surface had lost respect for fresh produce and livestock by processing them in such derogatory ways. According to him, Atlantis did not possess such an irreverent food industry - she had double checked this with Garth, who had explained to her that their people had also once been wasteful, but as their technology was several millennia ahead of the surface, they had long evolved past that stage. On the contrary to Kaldur, though, Garth appreciated the food the surface had to offer. Anything deep fried would delight him.

The only real problem with Kaldur’s views on food was that he was absolutely hopeless in the kitchen. He was capable of many things, yet cooking wasn’t one of them. He was able to put M’gann’s early attempts in the kitchen to shame. Luckily for them, Alfred had taught her how to follow recipes and prepare meals. So, they met in the middle. If he wanted fresh food, he would have to provide the ingredients and she would do the cooking. And provide he did. Seafood was now a staple at the Hideout and no one dared to argue. Their favorite dish had become surf’n’turf made with lobster and steak.

Working in different time zones had been difficult in the beginning. Mount Justice had been on the east coast and therefore closer to Atlantis. With the Hideout being in Hollywood, there was now an entire land mass between them, forcing them to manage three additional time zones. Of course, Atlantis had its own way of time measurement, which did not correlate with the one predominant on the surface and there was also the Watchtower orbiting the planet. Without zeta technology, their relationship would be way more complicated.

They had come to realize early on that there was no such thing as an ideal time, there was just time and it was up to them to make it ideal. Due to missions, they might not see each other for days, weeks or even months and neither of them would ever question the other whether or not it was necessary. They would never judge each other like that because that way, jealousy and anger would lie. They counted the little things. For the time being, those had to be enough.

\---------------------------------

Grace turned over in their bed, the empty space next to her feeling much too big and much too… _empty_ for her liking. Kaldur had been in Atlantis for the past couple of weeks, supervising the security protocols in preparation for the royal birth. From what she had gathered, it was a huge event for the Kingdoms of the Ocean, as another child of Atlan’s line would be brought into this world. Kings and queens from other kingdoms travelled to Poseidonis to bless the newborn and to celebrate their birth.

She was happy for Arthur, Mera and, of course, Junior. He would make a great big brother. At the age of ten, he was aware of the changes a baby would bring and, judging by Kaldur’s brief status updates, the young prince was more than a little excited, asking all sorts of questions and wanting to be involved with literally everything.

Sighing, Grace wiggled deeper into the covers.

There were many obstacles they had overcome together, nonetheless, this one seemed insuperable. For all the things they shared and cherished, this one could simply not be. It was not even a question of either/or, it was and always would be the surface since Grace couldn’t breathe water. Of course, there were breathers, but those would not protect her from the cold at the bottom of the ocean, nor from the water pressure crushing her body to death.

Oftentimes, she felt selfish for making Kaldur’ahm spend so much time on the surface when, clearly, Atlantis needed him. She was grateful that he was willing to sacrifice so much for her, although she couldn’t help but think that there would come a day when they would have to make a decision. If she had to, she would choose Atlantis for him, as it was all he ever wanted, his happiness was more important than her own desires. His family was there, his friends, his legacy. In a few years, the mantle of Aqualad might be picked up again by a teenage Arthur, Jr. and it would be up to Kaldur to teach him.

Grabbing Kaldur’s pillow, Grace inhaled deeply only to find that her lover’s scent had vanished entirely. He had been gone for over two weeks now and there was no guarantee as to when he would return. She would never berate him for it, though. That wasn’t how they worked. She would just be glad, if he came back at all.

\---------------------------------

Kaldur’ahm exhaled audibly into the plethora of pillows adorning his spacious bed within his quarters at the palace.

_Just a few more days_ , he thought, as he eyed the timepiece to his left.

Queen Mera’s approximate due date had been made public with the announcement of her pregnancy months ago. However, he was one of the few individuals actually knowing the exact date. Atlantean science allowed for precise predictions, perhaps not down to the minute, but the hour ought to be sufficient enough.

The past seventeen days had been stressful. His shoulders felt constantly tense, as his sense of alertness never quite permitted him to relax. When Prince Arthur had been born, King Orin had still carried the mantle of Aquaman and Kaldur’ahm had merely supported his king to the best of his abilities. Now, ten years later, he was in charge of safety procedures, supervising events and eliminating any potential threats not only towards his king and queen, but also towards the foreign dignitaries arriving to welcome the new heir.

His body was tired from exhaustion, yet his mind kept him awake. It wandered towards the surface, towards the sun, towards his love, wondering how she spent her days and if she had as much trouble falling asleep as he did right now. The messages they had exchanged over the past two weeks had been nothing but short status updates. While he wanted to spend more time talking to her, it was just not possible right now as his duty called.

It was during the quiet moments in his quarters, when he was alone, that he contemplated their relationship.

Kaldur’ahm knew that he was selfish by being with her. Although his heritage granted him access to the surface world, it would also forever bind him to Atlantis. He wanted to ignore his doubts, the little voices which Grace could silence with such ease. She could make him forget that he wasn’t enough.

He had spent a decent amount of time in his king’s and queen’s presence these past couple of days. They had dinner together almost every night and to see his king showering Queen Mera with nothing but love, as she carried their second child, moved something within him.

Although relationships with surface-dwellers were under normal circumstances strictly forbidden, Kaldur’ahm had gotten official authorization by King Orin. His king had been rather happy, when he had heard the news, Queen Mera however had raised her concerns.

Their relationship was keeping him from Atlantis, from his duty and from his family, because she would not be able to survive down here. Unless…

_No_ , he would not allow his thoughts to go that route. It was not appropriate. He had absolutely no right to ever even consider such an atrocity.  
Kicking at the blankets, Kaldur’ahm laid on his back and stared at the high ceiling.

“Just a few more days,” he whispered to himself. Then, the child would be born, the celebrations would be held and he would be able to return home. For his home would always be where she was.

After a tangible eternity, he finally managed to fall asleep and in his dreams, they swam together in Atlantis.


	4. Gentleman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #21 months in #gentleman #mentions of nudity and sex at the end
> 
> Thank you to everyone for your comments, kudos and hits. I'm sorry for the long wait. I am actually working on two other chapters, but they've gotten a bit out of hand lengthwise, so I'm posting this little snippet instead for now. 
> 
> I definitely have a meeting with Black Manta in mind, but I think I'll need to do some more worldbuilding first, for it to make sense.
> 
> I will also add hashtags concerning the timeline, so you get an idea of when the chapter is taking place. So with this chapter, they're roughly 21 months into their relationship.

Kaldur was a gentleman and Grace meant that in the best way possible. She still wasn’t sure whether it was simply the way _he_ was, or if the discipline instilled by the Atlantean army had shaped him to respect others the way he did.

Since her experiences with male Atlanteans were limited to only a handful of specimens and proper research was simply not possible without causing a diplomatic incident, Grace would have to accept the fact that she might never be able to find out the root for his nature.

Generally speaking, while Atlanteans were highly traditional and strictly set in their cultural ways, they had achieved a level of gender equality most surface-nations could merely dream of. Kaldur had been deeply disturbed, when they had attempted to explain such things as gender pay gaps, pink tax or slut shaming to him years ago.

Grace often wondered how much of his gentleness stemmed from his parents. By parents, she referred to his mother and his stepfather, of course, not his biological father because Black Manta, well...Kaldur didn’t particularly like talking about the way he came to be. Black Manta had been obsessed with getting his hands on Atlantean DNA and Sha’lain’a had been unfortunate enough to cross his path. From what little Grace had gathered, one of Manta’s henchmen, Calvin Durham, had been disillusioned by such abhorrent behaviour and aided Sha’lain’a in her escape.

It was funny to think that each of them had a Calvin in their life, who had played an essential part in their upbringing.  
Calvin Rose had taken her in after her family’s death, had trained her to become his successor as the new Talon and had eventually decided that the Court was beneath them and left with her to join the League of Assassins, where she had met Ra’s al Ghul. Ra’s had introduced her to the Wayne family and the rest was history.  
Calvin Durham had originally been one of Black Manta’s mercenaries. He had helped Aquaman during the raid on Black Manta’s lair and saved Sha’lain’a and her unborn child from further experimentation. Out of gratitude, but possibly also out of spite towards Black Manta, Sha’lain’a had named her child Kaldur’ahm in honor of Calvin. They had fallen in love and Calvin had become Kaldur’s stepfather.

She had never met his parents, as she wasn't able to enter Atlantis without serious precautions. Obviously, there were options to nullify said precautions, however they weren’t at a stage in their relationship where they ought to be discussing them more in depth. Or so she thought. Talia had been making not so subtle remarks about their two-year-anniversary coming up and Grace had heard on the superhero grapevine that there was a betting pool on their engagement date. Jason had been kind enough to inform that he hadn’t put any money on a date _yet_ , but her other siblings were definitely bothering her, except for Tim and Damian. Now, Damian would always be her favourite, but Tim had progressed to a close second. Too caught up with their newborn, he was more focused on his little family and didn’t give much of a shit about anything else. The baby also steered Talia’s attention away from her. Everybody wins!

Kaldur and Grace barely talked about their relationship, or the course they wanted to take with it. If life had taught them anything, then it was to live in the moment. In their line of work, tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed, hence planning for the far future seemed pointless. She respected those able to look past the next sunrise, like Connor and M’gann, but as Bette Midler once sang “...love is only for the lucky and the strong…”. Grace regarded herself more of the former than the latter. She was lucky to have Kaldur’ahm in her life like that and she wouldn’t dare to ask for more. Kaldur appeared to share her opinion or, perhaps, he simply didn’t want to push her, although Grace was pretty good at reading him and being able to tell when he was restraining himself from voicing his concerns or acting prematurely.

Grace had long realized that his behaviour had nothing to do with being patronizing. Depending on the situation, Kaldur simply preferred to contribute instead of standing by. To him it was a sign of respect and he expected to be respected in return. If she was completely honest with herself, there had been times in the past - and there would definitely be times in the future, as well - when she had given in to her mischievous side and let him suffer. He had the habit of grumbling when displeased and would openly do so, if his guard was lowered enough. It was rather entertaining to see how long it would take him to crack.

When they had spent their first anniversary in Norway and she had convinced him to go hiking before sunrise, she had carried the backpack with their provisions. Logically, as she was the one who wanted to leave the comfort of their perfect rental home by the fjord at such an unholy hour, Grace would be the one to carry their necessities. Before they had left, she had casually kept the backpack by her side, never allowing Kaldur’ahm to be alone with it. His eyebrows had twitched a bit, yet he had said nothing. He had initially offered to carry it for her, arguing that due to his superior strength, it would not have weighed him down as much, but she had been prepared to counter any of his arguments.

Halfway up the mountain path, still a good while before sunrise, she had eventually caved in due to his growing irritation. At that point, he had known what she had been doing, yet he had still taken the load off of her back. A quick peck on the lips followed by some ogling had been enough to console him for the time being.

It had taken her a while to understand the right timing and the right means when it came to Kaldur limiting himself. He wasn’t the type to push, hence she needed to be more attuned to his needs, his little tells and triggers. Of course, that didn’t mean that she catered to his every whim. In the beginning of their relationship, she would intentionally bring him towards a point where he would have to push, to demand, to take if he had wanted to get what he wanted. She had needed him to understand that she expected him to trust her with his desires and that she also wanted him to be honest with her.

“Because I want to make this work,” Grace had told him, as she had sat on his lap, their bodies still joined, “I can’t have you constantly second-guessing yourself. If you want something, if you _need_ anything, we should be able to talk about it, alright?”

He had put his arms around her waist and back, pulling her closer and eliciting a moan as he had shifted inside of her. Having rested his forehead against her shoulder, his breath had tickled her sweaty skin. “You could not have picked any other opportunity to tell me this?” Kaldur had placed soft kisses against her collarbone. “You could not have discussed this with me over dinner, but instead you chose _this_?”

“You happen to be more relaxed after sex,” she had lazily smiled at him, still basking in the afterglow, “and I didn’t think you would last this long before you snapped. I guess I’m getting old.”

He had snorted a laugh against her neck. “You’re not getting old. You’ve just never been with an Atlantean before.” One of his hands had wandered from her waist down towards her lower back, firmly cupping one of her cheeks.

“Well,” she had sighed softly at his touch, “I would like to get used to being with an Atlantean, but we’ll have to communicate, then, alright? So no more holding back and suffering in silence, promise?”

“I promise,” Kaldur’ahm had kissed her on the lips and Grace had believed him.

For Kaldur was a gentleman through and through.


	5. Status: Unknown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #Garth #pre romantic relationship #like six months before they get together?
> 
> So, this is part of a long-er chapter I'm currently working on and I've decided to split it, so that I would be able to post at least something this week.
> 
> I've got a bunch of notes for plot bunnies written down, some of which are already over a thousand words... What would you like to read? I've got ideas about their first kiss(es), them on a little vacation for their first anniversary, snippets about their daily lives, an Under the Sea AU where Grace is also Atlantean and a Failsafe AU, just to give some examples. Comment down below <3
> 
> A HELLO to all the new readers and, once again, a HUGE THANK YOU to everbody who keeps coming back, for every kudos, every comment, every bookmark and every sub! This story's got 10 subs and 8 bookmarks right now! This is so amazing. I didn't think a lot of people would like this pairing, but you're proving me wrong and I love it.

Garth excused himself as politely as possible from the group of sycophants that had gathered around him. High society, regardless of sea level, would forever require punctilious navigation on his part to avoid utter disaster.

_I am here to represent the people of Atlantis_ , he reminded himself as he maneuvered through the crowd, _it’s a great honor that my King and Queen bestowed upon me and I will not fail them or our people_.

His appointment as ambassador had been met with varying degrees of criticism among Atlantean high borns, nonetheless his experience from working with the Team had given him an ample advantage over their precious sons and daughters. Fortunately for him, King Orin was able to see past the social constructs of class and birthright and the surface-dwellers were none the wiser. They were neither aware of his birth nor of his upbringing. All they knew was his current station and that was more than sufficient to garner their interest. He was regarded as a novelty and a chance to further their wealth. The sheer audacity these people portrayed by assuming he would grant them access to Atlantean technology because they had talked for a few minutes...he shook his head as he eyed the various delicacies at the buffet.

_Well_ , Garth deduced, _at least the food is amazing_.

Surface-cuisine possessed an exquisite amount of flavours along with a variety of enticing textures, which he would gladly explore at any given opportunity. He was just about to bite into a pickled fig and ricotta canapé, when he noticed her a bit further down the table: Grace.  
She looked every part the rich heiress she was. Her dark wavy hair was artfully arranged in a chignon. Expensive, yet tasteful, jewelry adorned her ears, neck and right wrist. The elegant black dress hugged her figure perfectly.

Garth remembered the first time he had seen Robin in her _other_ uniform. The makeup she had donned had been as much of a mask as her domino one, having given her an older appearance. Jason had not been supportive of the new look, while Roy and Will had also expressed their concerns about pedophiles.

“Ambassador,” Grace greeted him with a genuine smile, as she walked towards him, “how lovely to see you here.”

“Miss Grayson,” he bit the inside of his cheek to refrain from laughing at the little charade. They were in public and had to maintain appearances, after all. “I was unfortunately not aware that you would be gracing this event with your presence.”

“A last minute change,” she winked at him, allowing for a good look at her impeccably blended eyeshadow, “Bruce and Talia were supposed to attend, yet they came down with something, so the honor of representing my family tonight fell to me.”

Garth couldn’t help but smile at the formality of their exchange and judging by the way Grace’s eyes sparkled, she was amused as well. Looking around, they didn’t seem to attract too much of an audience.

“How are you doing?” He whispered before biting into his canapé.

“I’m doing okay,” she covered the motion of her lips behind the brim of her champagne flute, “what about you? Want to step out of the limelight for a bit?”

“With pleasure,” Garth offered her his right elbow, because as she had once taught him, _the lady always went on the gent’s right_.

He allowed her to lead the way by gently increasing the pressure on his arm, if she wanted to go a certain direction and they made it towards the far side of the room that had decidedly less traffic than the main area.

“If you want at least a semblance of privacy at these events, always look for the spot the farthest away from the bar, the center, the entry and or exit, the facilities and the food,” Grace explained as she let go of his arm, “tested and proven true by the entire Wayne family.”

Garth snorted, vowing to remember that convenient bit of information in the future. “I don’t mind people that much, it’s just…”

“That people only talk to you because they want something from you,” she finished his sentence. Upon his incredulous look, Grace just smiled. “Hi, I’m Grace Mary Grayson, youngest addition to the Wayne family. _The_ Wayne family. Have we met?”

“We most certainly have,” Garth returned her smile with one of his own, “just not like this, I suppose.”

“True,” her necklace glinted in the light when she shrugged nonchalantly, “does it bother you? I mean, I get that you probably came here with plans and all, so I don’t mean to keep you.”

“No, it’s alright, don’t worry. I’m actually glad you’re here. Usually, I don’t bother much with receptions, but I also can’t give the impression of being completely disinterested in the surface, so,” he made a weighing motion with his hands, “there are worse jobs in the world.”

“I guess you’re right,” sipping on her drink, Grace pondered his words. “So, how’ve you been doing? What’s the embassy like? Is it by the water?”

Garth chuckled. It had been a long time since they had gotten together. Who would have thought that a reception in New York City would cause them to be in the same place for once? The surface had a saying about gifted ungulates that he couldn’t quite recall, but it went along the lines of appreciating things given freely.

The remainder of the evening was far more pleasant than its beginning. Chatting with Grace was easy and entertaining. They always needed to maintain a bit of professionality, given that they were in public, yet it was refreshing to find that there were a multitude of topics besides their _night jobs_ to talk about.

To his surprise, when they were approached by other guests, Grace even managed to manipulate the conversation in such ways that the question of sharing Atlantean tech didn’t occur once. A refreshing outcome and Garth was keen to remember her techniques. She had always been clever with words and paired with her talent to read people, Grace was able to effortlessly direct a conversation to wherever she wanted.

In recent years, Bruce and Talia had utilised her superior interpersonal skills during times of crisis at Wayne Enterprises. They had sent her to face the media, when an explosion at one of WE chemical plants had occurred. Ever the performer, she had led through countless press conferences with a smile, having enchanted reporters and shareholders alike. The press had barely mentioned the incident itself, as they had been too busy praising Bruce Wayne for his expertedly organised information policy. 

Towards the end of the event, Grace explained to him that Damian had helped in honing her people skills by having used her as a human shield ever since she had been deemed old enough to attend social events. His reputation as an antisocial recluse had literally transformed overnight, as the media had started portraying the heir to the Wayne fortune as a chivalrous older brother. Unfortunately, they had later changed their tune and given way to some disgusting Woody Allen/grooming-esque type of stories, nonetheless, those rumors had quickly died down, when Grace had been seen in public with other people looking all lovey-dovey.

Before having said their goodbyes that evening, they agreed to spend some time together while Grace was still in the city for Wayne family duty. It was a good chance to catch up on each other’s lives and, for once, Garth didn’t need to worry about being seen with one of his friends in public, as Grace was very much a public figure. At least judging by the throng of photographers, _paparazzi_ , constantly following them around.

“Don’t worry,” Grace told him while they sat inside a cozy café, enjoying steaming hot coffee and delicious cake creations, “the mob is going to disappear once they find a more interesting target. Just try to ignore them and don’t give them the satisfaction of clapping back at headlines or so. The papers write whatever they want. You just give them more ammo by responding.”

“I seriously don’t understand how the surface is so obsessed with - what are you calling it? - _celebrity culture_ ,” Garth mockingly used air quotes to underline his point, “we have got gossip, too, but your people are perverting it for commerce.”

“Yeah,” she drawled and sighed, “sadly, that’s kind of our thing in case you hadn’t noticed yet.”

Garth smiled around his mouthful of raspberry cheesecake. Despite all the bad things happening on the surface, there were still some good people left to see things for what they truly were and, hopefully, it would be enough to turn the tide eventually in their favor. As for the so-called headlines, he was not bothered. If anything, they amused him immensely. The media referred to them as “star crossed lovers” and likened them to “a modern Disney fairytale”, when all they did was hang out the way friends did.

\---------------------------------------------

“Alright, then,” King Orin clasped his hands together, “guess we’re done for the day. Kal, do you have a moment?”

Kaldur’ahm turned towards his king, while the generals headed towards the door, eager to return to their respective troops after the mid-morning briefing. The abbreviation of his name no longer bothered him the way it used to when he had been younger. He had learnt to appreciate King Orin’s less formal way of addressing the people he considered close.

“Of course, my King,” he crossed the short distance towards the king’s desk and was surprised, when King Orin retrieved several surface newspapers out of one of the desk drawers and dropped them onto the table. The paper was saturated with water to the point where it simply laid flat instead of floating.

“So,” Orin waved his hand at the assortment of papers, “what’s this thing with Garth and Gracie? Do you know anything about that?”

Eyeing the various headlines along with the pictures, on the front pages of all things, Kaldur’ahm shook his head slowly. “I was not aware of any changes in their friendship,” he admitted, his voice laced with skepticism, “the media might overreact to further sales. The surface is rather fond of sensationalism in lieu of actual journalism.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, too, it’s just,” sitting down on the edge of his desk, the king’s shoulders slumped slightly forward, “you know how some people are a pain in my ass about Garth being ambassador, right?” He waited for Kaldur’ahm to nod. “And there are still laws that forbid these relationships. So, some people are having a field day and if they really are together, I need to come up with something, so that Garth won’t look like a traitor and Gracie won’t be outed.”

“None of these pictures are indicative of an actual romantic relationship, my King,” Kaldur’ahm frowned, “Grace has always been flirtatious and, in the past, some people have mistaken her behavior for romantic interest, but Garth,” he pointed at one of the pages, “that is not what he looks like, when he is in love. Surface media is also known to manipulate pictures to suit their needs.”

For some reason, the idea of two of his best friends being romantically involved with each other didn’t sit well with him. Over the course of the years, he had witnessed short-lived physical affairs and also the development of deep and meaningful relationships, however, the possibility of Garth and Grace had never crossed his mind. There had never been a spark, at least not to his knowledge.

“I know,” King Orin rose from his seated position and gathered up the papers to put them back into his desk, “but sometimes, these things change and it takes a little while longer for people to actually see each other that way. I just need to know if this is some hoax or not. If it is, great, if it isn’t, I’m happy for them and I’ll think of something so they can get a free pass.”

“My King?” Kaldur’ahm raised one of his eyebrows. King Orin had always shown his favor by granting both Garth and him freedoms far beyond their law. Granting Garth a relationship with a surface-dweller, however, might cost the king considerably in terms of respect and reputation.

“Oh, come on, Kal,” he laughed and clapped one of Kaldur’s shoulders, “this is Gracie we’re talking about. If there is one person on the surface that I would allow to make the transition, it would be her. She would be doing great down here, too. I just want you guys to be happy, alright?”

Before Kaldur’ahm was able to muster a response, they were approached by Vizier Vulko.

“My King, Kaldur’ahm,” he nodded at them respectively, “the representatives of the Fishermen kingdom await Your presence, Your Majesty.”

“I’ll be right there, Vulko,” King Orin smiled, “you,” he said, turning to Kaldur’ahm, “keep me updated on the situation, okay?”

“Of course, my King,” Kaldur’ahm inclined his head in affirmation, as the king and the royal advisor swam down the hallway towards their negotiations.


End file.
